The Phantom of the High School
by Siren's Chant
Summary: 5th Chapter! A strange senior is seen clad in black attire and a white mask, and he's got his eye on a freshman... Welcome to POTO High.
1. Chapter 1: Who is That?

Note: This is supposed to be a little juvenile. It's present day at any high school in the world. Use your imagination to what it looks like, or make it out to look like yours... If you want. That's what I did, so I tried to be broad on the description of the school. Also, everything should fit into place later. It may seem confusing now but... It'll smooth itself out in the end... I hope _^!  
  
"Who is that?"  
  
It was a bright and extremely hot afternoon in August and it also was the first day of school. The air was as heavy as the gossip as old friends gathered and recollected fond memories of their summer. Many were meeting for the first time since the last year, and one could tell by their hot and guilty faces that there wasn't much for them to say to friends they hadn't seen. But the simple sight of old friends and the thought of ice cream sundaes afterward seemed to soothe the heart, soul, and stomach.  
  
Meg Giry was surveying all the commotion made about a strange boy while anxiously waving her new notebook to keep her face cool. She wanted so badly to be the social butterfly that she saw all the other girls being around her. To see her old friends, to talk and laugh. But she only had one friend she could really trust and who really trusted her in the entire world. This friend happened to be sitting right next to her under a sprawling willow tree.  
  
Christine Daae was not at all aware of the hubbub going on about her. She was delved deep in the last pages of Murder on the Orient Express. Although she was unaware of it, she attracted a lot of attention. After all, she was the only girl reading on the first day back to school. But, besides that, she was very beautiful with her wide green eyes and wavy brunnette tresses and no one (excepting Meg) knew her. Her caretaker, Mama Valerius, insisted that she go to a Catholic school but it was mandatory in that district that even Catholic school students had to attend the public High School. So, aside from the excellent education she had received she also became very close to God.  
  
Meg and Christine had lived across the street from one another since they could remember. Since they had met, their friendship grew even though they did not attend the same school and before they knew it, they were entering High School together.  
  
Christine and Meg had been involved in a summer drama program in the community. That was where they established many of their relationships with other people. One good example would be Carlotta Rivera, who was approaching them at this instant.  
  
"Well, goodie-two-shoes is already reading... Hmm, why doesn't that surprise me? You're the only one I know, Christine, that doesn't have anything better to do!" The hot Latin accent of Carlotta was enough to boil anyone on that day.  
  
Meg, appearing more hurt than Christine on the comment, immediately shot up and said, "You just think you're better because you're older!"  
  
Carlotta couldn't help herself, "And prettier, and wealthier, and more talented, and wittier..."  
  
Christine, who, through all of this had been reading, looked up and said, very composed, "You didn't say intelligent..."  
  
"Well!" Carlotta shot back, "You didn't let me finish!"  
  
Christine sighed and looked around as Meg and Carlotta continued to fight. She finally noticed the boy that everyone had been talking about...  
  
She put down her book and continued to look at him, almost entranced by his curious appearance. She saw that his shoes were very expensive and shiny in the morning sun, that his black dress pants were meticulously pressed, that he was wearing a long black cloak, and... "Oh!"  
  
She jumped in surprise. She had analyzed him from the bottom up and finally got to the face. She could not see it, but she knew from the direction of the hood that he, or "it", was looking right at her!  
  
"Meg, oh Meg!" Christine cried.  
  
Finding it useless to argue any more with a commoner, Carlotta left in a huff. "Ha! I showed her!" Meg said. "I don't think it's right that just because she's one year older and got the lead in the play this summer means that she can take advantage of us!"  
  
"Meg!"  
  
"Why do I bother anyway? I mean, she's not worth the time!"  
  
"MEG!!"  
  
"What?!" "Look! Over there! Who is that?"  
  
"I asked you that like five minutes ago! Why?"  
  
"Because..." Christine shivered. "He looked at me."  
  
"So? I don't remember looking at people being a crime but..." Meg looked over at the boy, who was still staring at Christine. "Maybe this is an exception..."  
  
"Is he still looking at me?"  
  
"Yep... Maybe we should find our class huh?"  
  
"Yes, let's. And hurry!"  
  
Christine and Meg gathered their things and went inside the school. Just to be safe, Christine glanced out the window to see if the boy was still there... But the boy, the cloak, the shoes, and the hood had all vanished...  
  
"That was strange..." Christine thought to herself.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Meg and Christine walked down the dark corridor to their first class, Algebra. They were oblivious to what the time was, and entered the musty room right after the bell rang for class.  
  
The teacher, who appeared to be as old as the musty room, welcomed them to their first day of school coldly.  
  
"Ladies," the withered man snarled, "I hope you don't make a habit of this..."  
  
"Please sir," Christine said, "we had no means to check the time!"  
  
He retorted, "I should think the bell would be enough!"  
  
"Oh, lay off you old geezer! It's the first day of school!" Meg said, nonchalantly. Christine shook her head... They were in for it now! "What did you call me?" he asked Meg. It was almost comical to see him defensive, since he was so old.  
  
"A geezer! It's what you call people who are so old that when they we in school, they didn't have history!"  
  
The class, who was intently watching this little conversation, burst out laughing. All Christine could do was giggle as well, but her face was deep crimson.  
  
"Well, ladies, you'll do well not to call me names again! I want you both in detention, this afternoon!"  
  
"But sir!" Christine pleaded.  
  
"No buts! Now take a seat!"  
  
Christine, who was usually so easy going and likeable to everyone, could not help but have violent thoughts towards her new teacher.  
  
They sat down, and the teacher made sure they were across the room from one another.  
  
"Now," said the crackly voice addressing the class, "My name is Mr. Hurtinside. I will be your Algebra teacher for the year. Do not expect me to be pleasant, seeing as this is my last year till retirement and, to be perfectly honest, I wanted you all gone yesterday. But what's one more year of shining, young, fresh faces in my class eh?" His voice got more sinister as he finished the last sentence and the class, already deathly afraid of this teacher, nodded fervently in response.  
  
"Your fate in this class is your decision. Don't thank me for the grades you get because they are the grades you earned. That also goes the other way; don't accost me for bad grades that you get either. I am a lazy man, and I will not be lenient on late assignments and such. But..." He smiled, which doesn't even deserve the title because the dentures in his mouth made him look as if he was scowling at them. "I'm not one to lecture. On with class!" He called.  
  
The class, which was loaded with homework on at least twenty different pages, was finished. No one was doing the work, however, because they didn't feel like thinking about the amount of it. No one was working except Christine.  
  
Christine, who was utterly miffed at Meg for getting her on bad terms with a teacher the rest of the year and detention on the first day, wrote very hard on her paper, to the point where she had to keep getting up to sharpen the broken end.  
  
The next time Christine got up, Meg got up too. They conversed, under the hawk-eye of Mr. Hurtinside, and then Meg gave Christine a note. "Read it!" she whispered.  
  
The note read as follows:  
  
Dear Christine- I'm sorry about this morning. I should've kept my mouth shut. I wish he 'd punished me... I would've been much more fair... Next time, I will remember. And it's your first high school day too... Oh, I feel sooooo bad! Anyway, about this guy you saw this morning... I found out he's known as the Phantom and no one knows his real name, but that's about it. He's supposedly a senior (that is so gross because we're freshman), but he's new just like you are. No one knows a thing about him! But he seems like the type that doesn't associate with people like us. We'll probably never see him again; his outfit looks so popular! But you never judge by appearances, so that wouldn't matter huh? Anyway, I think we have Singing Arts next hour with my mom (ugh). I hope she doesn't make me look like a dork in front of everyone! Well, I got to go now. Mr. Hurtinside is reading this over my shoulder... C ya! Meg  
  
Christine smiled. She couldn't stay mad at Meg; Meg wouldn't let her! But, since they were best friends, there was never a hard feeling that stayed silent for more than three days. Most of the time, they could read each other's thoughts!  
  
She had totally forgotten about Ms. Giry's class. She couldn't begin to fathom the makings of Meg's humiliation. "It's not as if she's not nice or anything..." Christine thought, "She's just a little... Eccentric..."  
  
The bell rang for the beginning of the next hour. Christine and Meg were both glad to be getting out of that place. "It smells like burnt rubber." Meg said, "And I've never smelt burnt rubber before..."  
  
As they were walking down the hall, they saw the Phantom. He was stalking the halls, in his stark black attire. Christine tried to walk by with as little contact as possible. She couldn't believe that someone like him actually went to a high school. She still couldn't see his face, and it was against school policy to wear anything on your head. "Maybe he's a special case..." She thought.  
  
The Phantom and Christine brushed up against one another in the hall, regardless of the utmost attempt to prevent that very thing from happening. She couldn't help but glance up at him, which wasn't easy because he was at least two feet taller than her.  
  
Beneath the hood, she couldn't tell, but she saw a pair of extremely sad shining eyes. The voice beneath the hood said to her, "Excuse me mademoiselle."  
  
The voice, from what she heard, was the most beautiful she had ever heard in her life. She almost wanted to entreat him to speak more, but pure curiosity prevented it. She could only stare at him with large green eyes.  
  
He laughed and said, "I see that words defeat you my dear." He looked down at her and said, "If you'll let me by..."  
  
"But of course!" She said, startled out of her daze. "I'm so sorry."  
  
He walked by and she watched him, his black cloak billowing behind. She could only marvel in his majesty as he traipsed down the hall...  
  
"Christine! Do you want to be late for your next class! Come on!" Meg said.  
  
And Meg literally dragged her to the classroom. Christine thought to herself, "I wonder who he is? He's wonderful." 


	2. Chapter 2: TP?

*Note: Thank you all for the extremely kind reviews! I honestly thought this would be a flop... I kid you not. I just have the intense urge to write something to this effect. I thought it had been done already. But... Maybe not! I want to put a quick disclaimer: I don't own any POTO references.  
  
I know it's pretty dorky for guys in black capes that are stalking the halls to be popular and cool, but my mind thinks like that now (and I wouldn't change it for nothing!).  
  
I mention a theater with seats and everything right in the school in this chapter. It sounds crazy, I know, but I actually have one at my school. It's called the Bertha Frank Performing Arts Center. But, you can just think of it as an auditorium or something. It's basically the same. Okay!  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Meg was silent, even though the intense urge to pester for details was burning inside of her. Christine, noticing this unease, went ahead and said, "We didn't talk much, really."  
  
Meg, releasing a huge sigh like she was holding her breath, said, "Well, it's about time you started talking!"  
  
"We didn't say anything... Well, not anything worth mentioning."  
  
Meg looked at her. "Well, if you don't want to tell me, that's fine..."  
  
Christine didn't want to tell her. She wanted to keep everything she knew about him a secret. Which, granted, the things she did know were a secret to her as well. But she didn't want anyone else knowing about the beautiful voice...  
  
They arrived at the music room, which was in the far corner of the school. There was a note posted on the door.  
  
Singing Arts Students,  
  
Today, in the absence of Mrs. Rivera, we are going to the Performing Arts Center for a complementary orientation. Meet the class there.  
  
-Ms. Giry  
  
Christine and Meg looked at one another. "Okay... So... Where's the Performing Arts Center?..." Meg said.  
  
Christine pulled out the map of the school which was given to every freshman for reference. She was startled to see where it was because it was on school grounds! She showed it to Meg, who was equally astounded.  
  
"Wow, that's cool though. A theater right in our school! It must be the new community theater and they just added it on. I don't remember any theater in the school before..."  
  
They headed silently in the direction the map indicated. They heard the bell ring to signal the start of the next hour. "I hope your mom doesn't count us late..."  
  
"Oh, she will."  
  
There was a door at the end of a dark corridor. Christine reflected upon the fact that most hallways in this school were at a loss of natural light...  
  
They walked through and saw the lobby of the center. Words cannot fully describe the marvel of the place. Certainly nothing compared to the Paris Opera, but equal on a smaller scale. Most everything was suave and smooth. The black marble floor was so shiny they could see one another in its reflection. Here and there were cast iron benches and there was wallpaper that had musical staffs and masks printed upon it in turns. In fact, music and ancient theater seemed to be the theme of this most intriguing place, proven by the very large paintings of ancient Greek masks (portraying sadness, worry, happiness, and wonder) that dotted the walls. The ceiling was also open, with the steel structure exposed.  
  
"This place is spectacular! I wonder who designed it? They must be very gifted!" Meg exclaimed.  
  
Christine did not hear her, because she had wandered off. She was enchanted by the majesty of the room. It had a certain romantic appeal. She gazed into the painting of the large, sad mask on the wall closest to the theater entrance doors. She was looking for the artist's name. She peered down to the lowest right-hand corner. In very sloppy writing in red ink was the name "Erik". "Erik..." She repeated to herself. She looked at the painting closer and saw a tiny beam of light shining through. The light startled her, and she jumped back. But she soon recovered herself and took a closer look. But when she did, the light was gone... "Meg... Take a look at this painting..." Christine said, "I don't think there's a back to it..."  
  
"Oh, Christine, we don't have time to look at paintings! My mom will be really mad! We've probably lost them! Come on!" Meg took Christine's hand and dragged her into the theater.  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
The theater appeared plush and regal. Everything was the color black, gold, or red. Again the mask theme was carried into this room, with two above the stage and one on and in each of the two boxes on the stage's left and right.  
  
They saw Ms. Giry in the middle aisle. She saw them and accosted them immediately. "And just where have you two been? We have been on the tour! You have missed some very interesting things!" Ms. Giry said. "Why, would you look at the time? This hour is nearly over! I would like an explanation please."  
  
"Oh, well, mom... Um..."  
  
"Christine, can you better explain?"  
  
"Um, yes, perhaps. Well, you see, we didn't know where the theater was and we had to find it, which was not very easy, because it is new and all. Well, when we arrived, we were distracted by the decorations and..."  
  
"Do you mean to tell me, Miss Daae, that you were distracted by decorations?"  
  
"Yes..."  
  
"Well," she sighed, not attempting to hide her disappointment in them, "there's no worse punishment that I can deal then the one you have already given to yourselves..."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You have missed much of the orientation!"  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Just fall in line you two. If you would like to get better acquainted with the theater, I suggest that you come back after school..." Christine and Meg looked at one another, silently deciding it best not to mention their detention at the moment. "Come, come. We still have to see the backstage area..."  
  
The rest of the class was anticipating this, but Meg and Christine soon fell behind, caught up in their own conversation.  
  
"What were you saying about the painting in there?" Meg asked.  
  
"I don't think there's a back to it... I think someone might be able to see through it. But... Who would do that? That's very frightening."  
  
"It is... I hope I never meet them."  
  
Christine thought for a moment, "The artist's name was Erik. Do you recognize that?"  
  
Meg raked her mind. "No, I don't think so."  
  
"Hmm, maybe it's just me..."  
  
They continued to the backstage and were shown the dressing rooms and the costume rooms. Neither was open at the time, but they were told that there was no need to see them, because they were empty.  
  
They finally finished the tour and made their way back through the lobby and through the door that transported them from the marvelous spectacle of the theater back to the humdrum high school.  
  
"Meg, I'm going to stay behind and look at the painting one last time..."  
  
"Do you want me to stay?"  
  
"No, I need you to cover for me if Ms. Giry, I mean, your mom sees I'm gone. Hurry up, they're leaving!"  
  
"Okay, you hurry too!"  
  
"Alright!"  
  
Christine bent down and pretended to tie her shoelaces. Swiftly she crept back into the lobby and peered into the painting once more. "I know that's not a real painting. It's just sheer linen... Or the like. Who would be that... Strange?..."  
  
Suddenly, and appearing out of nowhere, a note came fluttering from the ceiling. It landed before her. She picked it up and read it:  
  
"Curiosity-  
  
I have noticed you are intrigued by these paintings here. I suggest, if you would like to get a more in depth tour of this theater, that you arrive here at nine tonight. Meet me in the farthest dressing room. It will be unlocked.  
  
Cordially Yours,  
  
T.P."  
  
"T.P.?" Christine thought, "Who could that be?" She looked up at the ceiling but it was so dark she couldn't see anything... Nothing but two small beams of light...  
  
She noticed that the handwriting was familiar, but she knew she would be late for her next class if she didn't hurry. "I'll be here, tonight T.P.! Make no mistake!" She cried to the air on her dash out.  
  
*Authoress' note: Hmm... I wonder who T.P. is (does NOT stand for toilet paper!)? And the handwriting... Weird. What did you think? Review! 


	3. Chapter 3: New Friends

Note: I'm sorry I haven't been exactly... Prompt when continuing this story. There's really no excuse for it, and I'm sorry. I know I HATE it when a good story (not saying that mine is good, it just bugs me when other people's are) takes forever to update. Well, if you have read PHUTURE, then you understand. And, for those of you that have, I am thinking of rewriting the second chapter... I'll keep the brawl, but I need to make it spookier somehow... Like, oh shucks, what do they CALL IT!! ~i hate it when this happens...~ Um... Maybe... Foreshadowing? Is that right? I want you -the reader- to somehow get the idea something weird is going to happen. I know YOU guys -and gals- (A.K.A. Phantom Phans) know what's going to happen, but maybe other people who don't have a clue about POTO (for shame!!) would want to read it and understand it too *crosses fingers and toes*. I just one of those writers that can start a bazillion stories but not finish one without really intense concentration (I must have A.D.D. or something... Oh, look! A chicken!). Well, I'll get on with the story. I would tell you the ending of the last one, but I'm a lazy person (plus, the last chapter is a button-click away!).  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Did anyone miss me?" Christine huffed.  
  
"No... Did you find anything?"  
  
"Hold on, I need to catch my breath..."  
  
Christine didn't really need a breather, she just needed time to think. Should she tell Meg about the note? "What would I say?" Christine thought. She could see it now, "Oh, Meg, a little pair of shining lights were following me and some note came down from the ceiling that has this T.P. guy wanting me to come very late at night... You REALLY had to be there..." Christine frowned. "Even if she is my best friend, I could NEVER explain this!"  
  
"Are you alright now?" Meg asked.  
  
"Yes." Christine sighed. She thought, "First it's lying to your best friend, then tattoos, then drugs, then murder or jail (depending on which one commits the murder)... Oh, this is too horrible!"  
  
Meg stared at her. "Boy, she's acting weird... Does she not realize that she wears her emotions on her sleeve?" Meg asked her flat out, "Is there something you want to tell me?"  
  
Christine looked up at her, guiltily. She almost said nothing, but then said, "There's nothing that needs telling."  
  
"Okay?..."  
  
When they arrived back to the classroom (they had been in the bathroom not far away) Ms. Giry's (or Mrs. Rivera's classroom) was bustling. Christine couldn't recall how she and Meg had found their way back. It was almost like she was retracing steps...  
  
"Well, where have YOU two been?" Carlotta asked.  
  
Christine stood a moment, puzzled. "Carlotta? Carlotta's in this class? I didn't even see her!"  
  
"Haven't you had enough punishment this morning, Carlotta?" Meg teased.  
  
Carlotta huffed. She wasn't that good at comebacks.  
  
"I don't have time for you... There's someone here with a more pleasant atmosphere." Christine's eyes followed Carlotta to the opposite side of the room.  
  
"The only sphere I see is her! She thinks the world revolves around her!" Meg chuckled, playfully elbowing Christine. Christine looked at her straight and shook her head. "No good huh?" Christine again shook her head, then burst out laughing.  
  
Just then the bell rang. "Oh no! We have to part now! Parting is such sweet sorrow!" Meg said.  
  
"Off to Speech huh?"  
  
"Yep... I mean, Ist thoust goest toest Speech-est... (*Note- I thou go to speech- this is my feeble attempt at Shakespeare... Scary huh?*).  
  
"Okay, I'll see you later!"  
  
"Okay-est!"  
  
"Stop-est talking-est like-est that-est or-est I-est shoot-est you-est!" (stop talking like that or I'll shoot you! Ummmmm. violence. O_O).  
  
Christine laughed lightly as she climbed the stairs to the third floor for L.A. "Meg's such a riot."  
  
She walked into her class and was immediately pleased. "I love L.A., I can't get enough!" She chose a random seat in the back row and sat down. She pulled out her book and started to read.  
  
Suddenly, a voice said to her, "Is that good?"  
  
Startled, she looked up. Her breath caught in her throat. "It's Raoul... Come on, think of something to say!!!"  
  
Raoul de Chagny was the youngest of a very wealthy family. Everyone, even his older brother, Phillipe, had followed in the family footsteps and joined de Chagny and de Changy law firm. Raoul was tall and handsome... And popular. He was a generally nice person to everyone, which was rare for popular people. He was the star player on the basketball team and had almost every girl after him. "Why, then, is he talking to me?!"  
  
Christine knew, and lusted after, him her whole life. They had grown up together, in the same school anyway. Their prestigious Catholic school was expensive, snobbish, but a highly esteemed educational facility. Every day, Christine would watch him play with all the snobbish boys and wonder what it would be like to talk with him and be with him. But, every time, she would resentfully sigh and go back to reading a book. She didn't fit in there...  
  
"Is that good? I hear it's a good mystery book. I've always wanted to read it, but never had the time..."  
  
Christine gulped, "I've always dreamed for this day..." she thought, "Why have I choked? Oh, the irony!"  
  
Raoul cocked his head.  
  
"Uh oh, now he's getting suspicious! Say something, anything!" Christine looked up at him. He was so gorgeous, she couldn't breathe... His golden hair swaying and his bright blue eyes twinkling... The form of his face...  
  
"What's your name?"  
  
"M- my name?"  
  
"Yes, your name!" Raoul laughed.  
  
"*Gulp* Christine..."  
  
"Did you go to my school? I remember a girl like you named Christine who was always reading... Are you her?"  
  
Christine gazed at the floor in shame. "Yes..."  
  
"Oh really! Wow! I've always wanted to talk to you! You looked so... Interesting."  
  
A red-haired boy entered the classroom and spotted Raoul. "Raoul, buddy, come sit by me!"  
  
Raoul gazed at Christine. She nodded. "I understand."  
  
Quickly, Raoul asked, "What time is your lunch?"  
  
"Eleven-forty. Why?"  
  
"I'll find you, we'll sit together, okay?"  
  
Christine, suddenly remembering Meg, said, "As long as you don't mind one other..."  
  
"Not at all." He gazed at her again. "Well, I gotta go."  
  
"K."  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
The class had ended, but Christine hardly noticed. Most of the time she had been reading, and the other times she had been staring at Raoul. She couldn't believe that he had come to talk to her. But yet she couldn't help but be suspicious of him. But, then again, he could just have been trying to be a nice guy...  
  
The bell rang and she moseyed out the door. Her mind was whirring with thoughts. "This is turning out to be some first day of school..."  
  
Raoul and his buddy noticed her on her way out, with a dazed and glazed look in her eyes.  
  
"Dude, why were you talking to that bookworm?"  
  
"Because." Said Raoul. "And what right have you to interrupt MY conversations?"  
  
"I thought I was doing you a favor..."  
  
"Well, next time, don't do me any favors."  
  
"Why were you talking to her?" His friend repeated.  
  
"I don't know exactly. It's funny, I've known her almost my entire life, but she always seemed so... Plain. But now, she's changed, blossomed rather. She has to be the most beautiful girl I know..."  
  
His friend smirked. "You said the same thing about Carlotta."  
  
Raoul smiled back. "I only said that for social reasons; I have to keep my popularity up, even if it means complimenting Carlotta. But with Christine... I really mean it."  
  
"Well, what do you want to do about it?"  
  
"Isn't there a dance coming up? The Halloween Masque?"  
  
"Yeah, in a few weeks."  
  
"Well, I'll ask her to it." Raoul imagined how breathtaking Christine would be. He looked back at his friend, "I really like her."  
  
"Uh huh. I can tell. Can we go now?"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"I just couldn't stop staring at him. I was so startled! He was soooo gorgeous! And so polite!"  
  
"Christine, I still can't believe you are into this guy! He's one year older than you; you'll never have a chance with him! I just don't want you getting hurt. I'm your best friend remember? 'Only out for your best interests' and stuff like that."  
  
Christine and Meg arrived at lunch. Meg had quite a time trying to get Christine to sit down and stop looking for Raoul. Meg's Speech class had been uneventful, other than the fact that the teacher had a lisp and spitted a lot. And she happened to be in the front row. Christine couldn't help but comment on how extremely odd it was for a Speech teacher to have a lisp. But Christine couldn't stay on that train of thought for long; she was literally suffocating from excitement to tell her story. Meg, concerned with her health, agreed.  
  
"Meg, will you stop being so paranoid about older guys? Not all of them are bad!... Oh no! Here he comes. Stay calm..." Christine couldn't help but blush at the sight of him and she was shaking from anticipation.  
  
Meg rolled her eyes. "So much for staying calm" she mumbled.  
  
Raoul strutted over to their table, which was in the farthest corner of the cafeteria. He shot Christine one of his shockingly bright smiles. Meg caught her in the nick of time; she had nearly fainted.  
  
"Good afternoon. Can you spare a seat?" He said.  
  
"Sure!" Meg said. Christine was too mesmerized to speak. Meg whispered to her, "Look Christine, I'm willing to do anything to help you, but if you don't stop looking like a dope and say somethin', he's gonna think you're cuckoo!"  
  
Christine swallowed and thought on what she would say. "I'm okay," she thought, "I can do this. He's just a boy!" She opened her mouth to comment on his shirt, but all that came out was, "ilikeityoucute."  
  
Raoul stared at her and said, "I'm sorry, what was that?"  
  
Christine was literally kicking herself under the table and looked at Raoul with a painful smile. "Um, I, um, said that I like your shirt..."  
  
"OH! Is that it? I thought you said something like 'youcute'!" He smiled.  
  
Meg looked at Christine nervously and was silently praying for Christine not to choke.  
  
Christine turned crimson again. "Eh oh, of course not. Ha. haha." She laughed.  
  
As they continued to talk, a pair of seething eyes was peering at them. "Woud you just look at dem! Dey make me sick! She's such a slut!"  
  
"Carlotta! Give her a break! Maybe it's your boyfriend that is doing most of the flirting..."  
  
"How dare you insinuate! You call yourself my friend?!"  
  
"Chill out! It's probably nothing. You know as well as anyone that you're the best girl catch in the school!"  
  
"Yes, and he's the best boy catch... Let's just 'ope dat it is nothing. For today. Tomorrow I intend on not being so agreeable."  
  
*Note- Sorry about Carlotta's sudden heavy accent. I had intended to give her one all along, I just forgot (it can happen!). But, from now on, she'll have one (as long as I remember to take my pills... 6_9)* 


	4. Chapter 4: A Bit of History

*Note: Hey, everyone! Are these notes getting annoying for any of you? I just recently started reading this Manga/ Anime series called Fushigi Yûgi. The author (Yu Watase) writes a column along the edges on the pages. I love the storyline, but it's really fun to read those personal excerpts too. I'm kinda hooked! Well, anyway, is the whole Carlotta, Christine, and Raoul love triangle (?) working? I thought it added a nice twist to the plotline. A lot will be explained in the next few chapters.  
  
To follow up, I'm starting at the end of the school day. Christine's classes after lunch (in case you want to know) were Geography, French, P.E., and Biology. I'll go into detail later, but it's kind of difficult to write about an entire school day (don't be sad! You get to meet T.P. soon! After detention, that is...)  
  
Oh, and T.P. stands for Theatre Phantom (since the school Arts Center isn't really an opera...). But, The Phantom works too! Honestly, I would have guessed that too, if I hadn't written the story...  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
Christine picked up the school phone and started to dial. "I wish Meg were here." She thought.  
  
"Hello? Mama? Mama, I got detention... For Mr. Hurtinside..."  
  
Christine grimaced while she heard Mama Valerius' disappointed sigh on the other side of the line. Mama would never yell at Christine, but Christine sometimes wished she would. That sigh was too good for Christine, and she knew it. She hated it when people were disappointed in her.  
  
"Mama, I'm going to get a ride with Ms. Giry." Christine thought about Meg and felt sorry for her. She knew Ms. Giry was strict, even to Meg. It was times like those that Christine knew why Ms. Giry was single... "It's hard love, I suppose..." Meg remarked some time ago.  
  
Mama agreed and hung up, with a goodbye that Christine didn't deserve. "I'm too terrible..." She thought as she headed to Mr. Hurtinside's room.  
  
When she arrived, Meg was already sitting down and working. Apparently, as Christine learned later, Meg was asked to write the definition of a "geezer" fifty times. Christine saw Mr. Hurtinside. He looked up with a startling exhausted look in his tired eyes (which was quite different than what she had seen this morning)... And, surprisingly, all he said was, "Work on you homework, Miss Daae, till your friend is finished. Then you both may leave."  
  
Christine got out her Algebra since it was the only homework she had (none of the other teachers gave homework on the first day). She began to work and suddenly she heard something... A soft, and beautiful, song...  
  
"In an ALGEBRA ROOM?" Christine thought. She looked at Mr. Hurtinside and Meg. They seemed not to hear it. "This is weird... What kind of a school is this?! I wish that song would stop, I have to concentrate..."  
  
As if the voice had heard her, it stopped, abruptly. So abruptly, in fact, that Christine gasped in surprise.  
  
Meg looked over at her and cocked her head. She mouthed, "Are you okay?"  
  
Christine mouthed back, "Did you hear anything?"  
  
Meg shook her head. Mr. Hurtinside cleared his throat and Meg got right back to work.  
  
Christine shrugged, "It's probably nothing..." She thought.  
  
She stared at her Algebra homework, as if it was going to finish itself. "This might be a blessing in disguise... I have the Algebra teacher here if I need him... But I can't think!"  
  
Try as she might, she couldn't think of how to get to the High School tonight to meet "T.P." "I could sneak out..." She thought, "But, I've been in enough trouble today. I should probably just forget about it."  
  
She beat the pencil on her paper. "Why me?" She thought. "Why did I have to be so curious?"  
  
She glanced over at Meg. "I hope she gets finished soon. I want to go home..." Meg looked at Mr. Hurtinside and sighed. Then she looked at Christine.  
  
"How many more do you have?" Christine mouthed.  
  
Meg showed the number 3 on her fingers. Christine gave a thumbs up. "Good, we'll be able to leave soon." she thought.  
  
In less than ten minutes, Meg had finished her definitions. Christine got up and gathered up her homework. "Let's go." Meg said.  
  
Meg made her way to the door, without even glancing back. Christine said, "Goodbye Mr. Hurtinside. I'll see you tomorrow in class..." He cleared his throat again. It seemed like he didn't hear her.  
  
When she got out into the hallway, Meg said, "You know Christine? Sometimes you are some kind of suck-up."  
  
"I can't help it! He's just and old man... Someone's got to be kind to him. What if he doesn't even have a family to go home to? How said is that?"  
  
"That doesn't mean YOU have to be his family..."  
  
Christine shook her head. She knew Meg was going to hold a grudge against Mr. Hurtinside the rest of the school year.  
  
They walked back down to the Singing Arts room. Ms. Giry was typing on her computer, looking very stern.  
  
"Mom, we're done..."  
  
Her mother did not turn to face her. "The keys are on the desk," She said, "wait for me in the car."  
  
Meg took the keys and Christine followed her to their eccentrically old vehicle. "Do you think you mom is mad?" Christine said.  
  
"No da." Meg replied, sarcastically.  
  
Quickly, the got into the car. It was extremely hot and stuffy, since it had been sitting outside the whole day. Meg opened her window, but it only let more hot air in. A midday breeze in August was anything but refreshing.  
  
Christine kept thinking about getting back to the theater tonight. "I have to sneak out; there's no other option." Again, the thought of lying, tattoos, and murder or jail filled her brain again. She started to sweat.  
  
Meg had her head stuck outside the window, like a puppy on the freeway. "I could sure go for a sundae..." She said.  
  
Christine, shaken out of her thoughts of the electric chair, replied, "Hmm?"  
  
"A sundae. I could sure go for one."  
  
"Oh, yeah, me too."  
  
Again, silence enveloped the tiny, stuffy car. The school door swinging open to reveal a miffed Ms. Giry broke the silence. Christine was somewhat glad to see her.  
  
She walked up to the car and opened the door, "Meg, get your head out of the window. You look like a puppy!"  
  
"That's the look I was going for!"  
  
Meg got in but not without nodding to Christine to open her window.  
  
Before Christine realized her surroundings, due the delirious weight of the heat, they had arrived at Meg's house.  
  
"We're here." Ms. Giry said.  
  
"Thank you Ms. Giry."  
  
"Anytime, Christine. Have a nice night." Despite Ms. Giry's stern disposition, she was surprisingly polite.  
  
"You too. Bye Meg." Christine got out of their car and looked back at Meg, who had a pleading look on her face with both hands stuck up against the window. "Oh, I wish I could take you with me too..." Christine thought. "But, to her credit, she really does look like a puppy..."  
  
Christine walked across the street to her house. Inside her living room window, she could see Mama quietly knitting. "Maybe I should just not come in. She looks so happy just sitting there..."  
  
She sat down on the porch, on Mama's coveted rocking chair. She sighed. "After all Mama has done for me..."  
  
She started to remember her parents. Well, her father, particularly. She could even hear him saying to her, "I'll be back from the war soon... Don't cry..."  
  
She remembered that day even though she was only five years old...  
  
~(flashback)  
  
Her best dress was flitting in the wind on that windy, cloudy day. "Daddy, don't go... Please?" she sniveled.  
  
He bent down next to her and gave her a hug. "Now, come on, be a good girl. Mama will take good care of you."  
  
He looked up at Mama Valerius. "Thank you, Aunt Virginia. Since Catherine died in that accident, I haven't been able to find any decent caretaker... I don't know how I'll ever be able to thank you enough..."  
  
"Not a word, Charles. My thanks is getting to take care of your little angel..." She smiled warmly at Christine.  
  
He looked back at Christine. "Yes. My little angel who has so much of her mother in her..." His eyes began to water with the only tears that can fall from an adoring father's eyes. He hugged Christine again and kissed her on the forehead. "I love you, my darling."  
  
"I love you too, daddy."  
  
She watched him take his bag and run on the plane. She noticed that his pair of shiny pilot's wings had fallen out of his pocket. "Daddy!" She yelled. He turned around. "What honey?" He yelled back.  
  
"You left your wings!" She yelled.  
  
The propeller started to turn. There wasn't much time. "Take care of them for me... An angel needs her wings!"  
  
She smiled and yelled back as he ran to the plane. "I'll take care of them!"  
  
That was the last she would ever see of him...  
  
~(end flashback)  
  
And there she was crying, on her porch, on that extremely hot day. "Daddy..." She whispered through her tears.  
  
"Why did I have to think of that?" she thought angrily. "I always get so depressed!"  
  
She got up and shook herself out of it. She looked inside the window. Mama had left.  
  
She gathered up her things and opened the tattered screen door. They didn't have any air conditioning to speak of, but Christine never really minded. "Mama?" Christine called.  
  
"I'm in the kitchen dear!" Mama called.  
  
Christine found Mama with her head stuck in the freezer. "Mama? What are you doing?"  
  
"It's very hot today." Mama said as she closed the door. "This freezer is the only thing keeping my hairspray on."  
  
Christine laughed. Mama was always a little eccentric, in a good way.  
  
"How was detention?"  
  
Christine was a little taken aback by the question, since it had come so suddenly. "Well, um, it was better than I expected..." She said. "But, I WON'T get used to it!" She added, as an afterthought.  
  
"I know you won't, Christine. You are always too anxious to please me. That's probably the only thing keeping me alive!"  
  
"Don't say such things!" Christine said.  
  
Mama nodded and went back into the kitchen. "I'll cook dinner." She said. "I'm sure you must have homework."  
  
Christine quietly went up the stairs to her room. When she arrived inside, she dropped her bag and fell limply on her bed. "What a day! What a night..."  
  
"How should I go about this? Can I physically climb out the window?" She thought.  
  
The heavy weight of the humid afternoon began to weigh just as heavily on her eyelids. Before she even realized it, she had fallen asleep.  
  
She woke up to the sound of Mama calling her down to dinner. "I'm coming!" she called.  
  
"Man," she said as she made her way downstairs, "I haven't even touched my Algebra homework... It's like it doesn't want me to finish it."  
  
She sat down at the table and began to eat. She could barely touch her food, all the butterflies in her stomach were making such a commotion!  
  
"Mama..." Christine said, sheepishly.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I'm not really that hungry tonight... But I am very tired. It's been a long, hard day." She winced internally at the thought of lying. It was not part of her nature.  
  
"Well, if you're sure..."  
  
"Yes."  
  
Christine got up to kiss Mama goodnight. "Goodnight," she said.  
  
"Sleep well."  
  
As she trudged her way back up the stairs, she silently prayed to herself to let GOD forgive her for this. Someday, maybe.  
  
"Okay," she thought. "First, I should rearrange my pillows..." She fluffed up her pillows to make it seem like she was lying there.  
  
"Now, a flashlight... Dark clothes... Maybe some money... A watch... The key to my bike lock... And..." She smiled, "Some pepper spray." Time passed faster than Christine had realized while she had been waiting and gathering things in her room. She estimated that it would take her at least thirty minutes to get to the school. It was eight thirty then.  
  
Sitting there, in her black clothes, looking like the spitting image of a secret agent, on her small bed. "I will sweat these clothes through. Maybe I should change... No! If he, or she, is dangerous, I want a quick getaway..." It was then she realized that she had been watching too many cop shows with Mama Valerius.  
  
She walked quietly out of her room and down the stairs. The kitchen was a blind spot from the living room, as she managed to sneak out the patio door.  
  
She opened the garage and wheeled her bike out. "Why am I doing this?" She thought. "I never remember being this insane... Maybe I wanted to live an adventure for myself for a change, instead of reading in a book all the time..."  
  
She nodded in resolution, got on her bike, and headed out into the steamy summer night...  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
She had all her hair tucked beneath an old black ski cap. She was looking rather ridiculous riding down the main roads. She was almost pulled over by a policeman, if she hadn't taken that short-cut through Pine St.  
  
It took her a relatively short time to get to the school, since it seemed like every cop in the district was chasing her. She huffed as she lazily slid off her bike. She leaned it up against the side of the theatre, deciding it best not to put the bike lock on, because it would delay her if she had to make a quick getaway.  
  
She walked up to the front doors and, to her astonished surprise, they were indeed unlocked.  
  
Apprehensively, she tiptoed softly into the theatre. She thought the hall was dark in the daytime, it was nothing compared to the night.  
  
She gulped loudly, in spite of herself. Although every fiber of her being was telling her not to go on, to head back, she felt herself moving forward. The only sounds that echoed in the mask laden foyer were the gentle sound of her feet and the sound of her feverishly shaking the can of pepper spray.  
  
She whipped out her flashlight, finally, and found her way backstage. "This was a BAD idea!" she whimpered.  
  
At the very end of the backstage area, she spotted the girls' dressing room. "Well... Here it is..."  
  
Her heart was beating wildly in her chest. She pulled on the door handle and heard it creak open. She kept swallowing hard, to keep her heart from coming up her throat.  
  
As she opened the door, a sliver of light from the room illuminated the backstage. The light was downright blinding. She let go of the pepper spray to shield her eyes...  
  
"Hello, Curiosity... I've been waiting for you."  
  
That voice, it sounded familiar... Somehow...  
  
Before she gather in her surroundings, a very cold hand emerged from the lights and dragged her in...  
  
~End of Part One~  
  
*Yeah, yeah. I know this isn't a lot that we see of "him", but this was a REALLY LONG chapter, don't you think (eight pages... TYPED!)? At least you know that T.P. is definitely going to be in the next chapter. Stay tuned! You will NOT be disappointed! 


	5. Chapter 5: TP Revealed

Note- I know it's been taking forever to update this. I actually have written several chapters ahead. But the story just wasn't flowing the way I wanted it to... You see, T.P. could be a musical genius, an algebra whiz, a coach, etc... I just didn't know which one to use! AH! But, I think it's fine now... Sorry about taking so long! Thanks for staying interested! Also, this chapter initiates the 'angel' quality. In the book, Christine describes his intentions simply as, "He asked to give me lessons," or something like that. So, this was a hard chapter to write! But, I finally did it!

Christine's eyes gradually adjusted to the light. Startled, she clutched the pepper spray once more and cautiously looked around. "WHO ARE YOU?" She said, defiantly.

The hand she had felt and the body to go with it had apparently vanished into thin air. She couldn't see any means to hide oneself easily in this bare room. She began to search under tables and chairs.

High above, a quiet 17 year old in a mask and black hooded sweatshirt peered through louvers of the air duct in the girls' dressing room.

Christine sat down. "I can't believe this... I know you're here! Why are you hiding from me?"

"It was her... I knew it!" T.P. was elated. He had seen her in the morning... Seen her in the halls... And then, in the theatre, the last place he expected her to be. He had brought her here; he had succeeded. But... Now what?

flashback

"Leave me alone! I want to be ALONE!!!" Christine yelled.

Christine ran as far away as the stage as possible. The old community theater was dark as her cries echoed their way before her.

Meg couldn't keep up. "Christine, wait! What's wrong?" she yelled after her, but Christine kept running, oblivious with sorrow.

Christine dashed to up the stairs at the very end of the backstage and climbed to the very top catwalk. She knew she could be alone there, although, she was very alone in this area anyway. No one ever came back there. It was said to be haunted.

"Oh!!! I HATE Carlotta!" She cried, knowing no one could hear her. "I hate her stupid accent and her stupid hair and her stupid voice! Oh Lord, curse her voice!"

Christine rarely acted like this. It wasn't her personality to 'hate' someone. 'Hate', in her religion, was a very strong word, used only in extreme cases.

Her anger faded into sorrow once again and she put her head on her knees and wept. "Oh..." she whimpered. "I can't stand her... She took Raoul, and now the lead!" Finding it uncomfortable to sit like that on the iron catwalk, she lied down and closed her eyes.

T.P. felt something similar to a raindrop fall on his head. "No..." He scoffed to himself, "it CAN'T be raining indoors." He looked up and saw the figure of what looked like a little girl.

"Not another NOSEY ballet brat I have to scare away..." He thought, "Oh well, comes with the territory..."

Silently, he climbed the catwalk, when it should have been called the T.P. walk, since not even a cat could have mastered it better than he. Noiselessly, he reached the top and saw that the little girl was crying.

T.P. watched her, and pitied her, but only for a moment. "Oh no! I've lost my tutu and I don't know where it is!" he imitated to himself.

Christine sat up straight immediately. "I have to get back... I have to face them... But what will I say?"

She sat Indian style and put one elbow on her knee and rested her head on it. She sighed, "If only you could help me, Dad..."

T.P. smirked, "We've got a nutty one over here!" He thought. "This is too easy..."

More silent and relentless tears appeared in Christine's eyes again. "No one understands... No one will ever understand me... I'm too different."

T.P. froze. "You, different? Why, you're beautiful..."

He began to climb back down the stairs, until Christine's soft voice stopped him in his tracks, "Who's there?"

He didn't realize that he had said that out loud. He winced. "I've been caught..."

"Who's there?" Christine repeated.

"Think... THINK!" T.P. thought.

"This silence is getting to me... I'm hearing things..." Christine said aloud.

"PHEW!" T.P. sighed out loud.

"Ah hah! Someone IS here! Who are you?!" Christine demanded.

T.P. had to think quickly. Finding him here, now, would not look good. It would never look good if it involved him. For some reason, a masked 17 year-old in a hooded black sweatshirt didn't exactly flow well with everyone...

T.P. rarely found an occasion when his intellect couldn't get him out of trouble. "If I can get the whole community to think this theater is haunted, then I can certainly fool this child!" He thought, confidently.

"It's... It's a friend. I've come to help you..." T.P. immediately shook his head. "She'll never believe it!"

Indeed Christine was skeptical, at first. She looked around and peered through the iron of the catwalk. But, this was futile since T.P. blended perfectly with the dark theater, and since he swiftly hid the white of his mask beneath his hood.

"God?" Christine asked innocently.

T.P. almost laughed aloud. "I'm definitely the last thing from God!" he thought.

"No... God wouldn't waste his time with me..." Christine said.

T.P. pondered this. "That was the exact thing I was thinking a few days ago..."

"Are you an angel, then?"

"What the heck?" T.P. thought. "Yes, I'm an angel."

Christine smirked, skeptical. "Okay... Do you know that Angel of Music? Mama Valerius talks about him constantly."

T.P. thought that sounded familiar, like out of a book he read a long time ago...

"So?"

"I AM the Angel of Music."

If it was possible, Christine's wide, green eyes got bigger. "No way! Seriously... I must be dreaming..."

T.P. thought, "Is this wrong? I shouldn't pretend to be someone I'm not... Well, if I can pretend to be a ghost, and pretend not to exist, than how hard can this be?"

"No, you're not dreaming... I am the Angel of Music. What is your name?"

"Gulp Christine..."

"Christine..." T.P. repeated to himself. "Well, Christine, why are you crying?"

Christine looked down. "I don't want to waste your time..."

"Trust me, there's no where else I'd rather be. Just start talking; I'll listen."

Christine, still not believing that this "Angel" was real, decided it was safe enough just to tell him her problems. She didn't want to go back to rehearsal just yet...

Christine divulged her feelings about Carlotta wholly. She talked for what seemed like an hour before T.P. finally got a word in edgewise.

"Wait... So this Carlotta person's mother is the music director of this musical, not to mention the music teacher at the high school?! That is unfair!" T.P. was outraged at this poor girl's trials with this "Carlotta person".

"I KNOW! And you know what she said to me?"

"What?"

"She said I sang like a broken-winged swallow!"

"NO!"

"YES!"

T.P. suddenly got the feeling like he was at a girly slumber party, but he didn't care. Christine was the easiest person and girl he had ever been able to talk to. They were becoming very close...

Christine had never met or heard anyone like this. He was so kind... They were actually getting along. Christine could almost believe that he was an angel, but hopefully not. He was a nice enough person to her, willing to listen to her problems, that she didn't care if he wanted to pretend he was an angel or not.

"Something must be done... Justice must be served!" He said angrily.

"No... No, don't do anything. She may be ruthless, but she's still a person. You can't hurt her..."

T.P. furrowed his brow. "What?!"

"Don't do anything."

T.P. looked confusedly at her. "But, all the things you said..."

"It's just talk."

T.P. shook his head rapidly. "Women ARE fickle!" He thought. "Christine... Are you sure?"

"Yes. Please?" T.P. looked at her in a different way. He gazed at her, on the catwalk, her arms folded across her knees, talking to the ceiling, like she was praying. He knew he couldn't refuse her. She was a friend; for the first time in his life, he had a friend.

He sighed. He felt something very new swell within his heart. It was such a warm feeling, that he never wanted to let go of. He swallowed. "Whatever you want, Christine."

"Thank you..." She smiled. T.P. thought he was going to burst.

Suddenly, a voice came from the theater. "Do you think Christine went home? She hasn't been back for a few hours... Practice is over. We were going to walk home together." Meg was explaining to the others.

Christine turned her head abruptly to the general sound of the voices. She took in a sharp intake of breath.

T.P. wanted to scare them away, but nothing, not even his feet, could tear him away from Christine.

"I have to go..." Christine said.

"No... Stay with me. You can come with me..." T.P. said, subconsciously.

"Meg is waiting..." She replied.

"Will I see you again?"

"Someday... Maybe. I hope." She said.

Before T.P. could reply a meeting place, he had to jump out of sight. Christine started to descend the stairs.

T.P. called after her, "Don't tell anyone about me. It's our secret. Forever."

"I'll take care of it." Christine replied backwardly.

"Goodbye!"

"Bye, Angel!"

T.P. watched his friend longingly as she jogged gracefully down the steps. He jumped onto one the ropes and swung from it as he watched her join up with Meg. "Bye, Christine..." He sighed.

Elegantly, he jumped from the rope onto the catwalk and ran down the stairs. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he ran down more stairs to the basement of the theater. "Home..." He sighed.

This "home" T.P. referred to was the cellars of the theater. He walked past old set pieces from plays and musicals over the years, glancing occasionally backward to see if he was being followed. When he was sure he was certainly alone, he called aloud, "CHRISTINE! HOW I LOVE THAT NAME! HOW IT ECHOES IN MY EARS!" He smiled. The expression felt foreign on his seemingly constant forlorn face. As he danced his way to his room, a meek structure made from a cottage used in Snow White, he came across a mirror from a set used many years ago. He stopped in his tracks.

His smile almost immediately faded. "That's me," he said. "That ugly, bony skeleton in there is me..."

He swallowed as he recalled the disease that had misshapen his face and body since his youth. Leprosy. His mother had it. He had it. He was receiving treatment, and the symptoms were nearly gone, but the marks it had left were still there. "I still look like a monster," he said. He walked to the mirror and smashed it with a bare, clenched fist. "I THOUGHT I told father to put no mirrors in the basement!" he called out angrily.

"No matter..." He said, suddenly calm. His fist began to bleed. "I'll just tend to my wounds and accost father tomorrow... But tonight... I have to figure out a way to see Christine again... Without her seeing me." And with that, he strode elegantly off toward his room.

end flashback

Christine was still sitting there, in front of the girl's huge vanity mirror. She couldn't help but think of how ridiculous she looked in black clothes.

"Christine, black is certainly not you color... I like you in white..."

Christine gasped. "So you are here..." she said. "Well, I'm not afraid! Show yourself!" Christine was lying; she was terrified.

"At the moment, dear, it would be completely impossible to do so... Besides, you don't want to see me... You just want to hear me..."

Christine peered around. This voice was everywhere! She couldn't pinpoint it... But then, she remembered. "It's... It's you!" she cried.

T.P. nodded, "I thought you had forgotten."

Christine replied, "How can you say that? I've thought about you everyday!"

T.P.'s heartbeat quickened.

"What have you been doing?" she asked.

"Moving..."

"Where?"

"From one theater to the next, initially."

Christine wondered, "You live here? In theaters?"

"Yes. It is something, I'll tell you that. I get to see free shows whenever I wish."

Christine was terribly confused. "But... Why? There are plenty of beautiful houses in this town..."

T.P. laughed aloud. "It's very hard to explain, and even harder to understand."

"So... I don't mean to sound pushy but... What do you want?" Christine asked.

T.P. blinked. He had just wanted to see her, to talk to her... That was enough for him. It should be enough for her too.

"Well, I just wanted to know how your first day of school went. Was it well?"

Christine's jaw dropped. "You're kidding right?"

T.P. jumped. He didn't expect this sort of behavior out of her. She was quiet, innocent, sweet... What had happened?

"No, of course not!" he snapped. "I want to know." He genuinely wanted to know now; he knew something had happened.

Christine was cautious as ever. Her angel sounded mad... But angels can't be mad... "I don't have to tell you." She said decisively.

T.P. peered at her hard, as if trying to see her soul. "Well." He snuffed.

"I'm sorry... It's been a long day. I'm quite tired, and worse still, I don't have my homework done..."

T.P. straightened up. "It wouldn't happen to be Algebra?"

She nodded. "Yes. How did you know?"

"I had a hunch..." T.P. giggled secretly. "Would you like some help?"

"Oh! I'd love that!" she said, "But... I don't have my books."

"I'll provide the books. I'll go fetch them."

"If you insist..." She said.

T.P. slowly crawled around in the direction of his gigantic tunnel that led to everywhere imaginable. "To the algebra room..." He thought.


End file.
